


Spark, Lightning and Flame

by SterekHalelinski



Series: Love & Memory [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22795012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterekHalelinski/pseuds/SterekHalelinski
Summary: With Derek’s return comes a new threat, and Stiles plans to take care of it.  At any cost.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Liam Dunbar & Theo Raeken, Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Series: Love & Memory [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635622
Comments: 12
Kudos: 58





	1. “Empty and Only Your Love Can Fill My Cup”

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, Derek is 38 and Stiles is 32. 
> 
> Playlist for this fic can be found [**here**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nsbcKoRAiF4&list=PLUMpnxcCbLX9B4aaH3bLydI2hYwcWP5dL). First track is ["Hollow," by Tori Kelly](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nsbcKoRAiF4&list=PLUMpnxcCbLX9B4aaH3bLydI2hYwcWP5dL&index=2&t=0s).

Stiles paces around Scott’s room. At some point, he places his hands behind his head, fingers entwined, as he continues to walk back and forth. He’s not really looking at anything in particular, and Scott watches from where he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, observing Stiles warily as his best friend freaks out on him.

“He’s back…!” Stiles says, eyebrows raised. “I mean...I don’t understand. Why is he back?”

“Um…” Scott says at first, contemplating whether there’s a right or wrong answer to this question. “Is this a…‘yay I’m glad he’s back’ kind of moment? Or a…”

“What?” Stiles asks, stopping in his tracks and his brows furrowing together as he looks at Scott. “Scott... _of course_ I’m glad he’s back, but the question is... _why?_ ”

“Why…” Scott asks, hesitating to make any guesses at finishing his best friend’s sentence.

“I mean, it sure as hell isn’t for me,” Stiles says, with that trademark scoff and wave of a dismissive hand that he often did when he was being smart or sarcastic.

Scott had to bite the inside of his cheek at that one. On the one hand, he wanted to encourage his best friend. On the other hand, he didn’t want to give Stiles any false hope either.

“Got any theories?” he settles for, at last.

Stiles bites at his lower lip. “Mm…” he contemplates, then shrugs. “Maybe he...he needs our help with something?”

There’s a glint of excitement in Stiles’ eye. “Maybe he needs help taking care of a threat!”

There’s something the pack knows that Stiles doesn’t. Information that Derek gave after making each pack member swear that they would never tell Stiles the real reason he left Beacon Hills. In the midst of his pain, and as brilliant as he was, Stiles never made the connection that most of the trouble that circled around Derek Hale dissipated with him the moment he’d skipped town. Not to say that Beacon Hills didn’t still attract their fair share of odds and ends, but nothing near the severity of when Derek led them all. There was something about the Hale legacy that attracted trouble, and Derek had recognized that.

He doesn’t tell Stiles any of this; that Derek left to protect him. That it doesn’t make sense that Derek Hale would return to Beacon Hills, looking for assistance with a threat; not after nine years of being away, and not if his honest reason for leaving was to avoid drawing Stiles back into the front lines of terror.

Stiles suddenly decides. “Well, I’m just going to ask him.”

It takes a moment for Stiles’ words to sink in. The other man is almost halfway out the door before everything clicks in Scott’s mind.

“Wait, what? You’re going to what?” Scott asks, bewildered as he jumps onto his feet. “Stiles! Hey!”

He nearly groans when Stiles ignores him. As a were, it’s with ease that Scott catches up to him. He grabs his friend’s shoulder.

“Hey!”

Stiles turns around at Scott’s behest and frowns at him. “What?”

“You don’t even know how to find him!” Scott says, a little exasperated. “Don’t you think you’ll need some help?”

“Oh…” Stiles said, shoulders sagging a bit. “Yeah...guess I didn’t think of that.”

It’s that drive to follow his instinct, to charge forward, and not always with a solid plan, that led to Derek leaving in the first place, Scott doesn’t say. Instead, he just shakes his head.

“All right. Give me a second,” he says as he closes his eyes, shifts, and scents the air.

It takes a few minutes, but Scott thinks he knows the general direction in which Derek is in. “...interesting,” he mumbles softly, not having meant to say it out loud.

Of course, Stiles catches it though. His frown deepens.

“What? What is it?” Stiles asks impatiently. “Where is he?”

“I think he might be…” Scott starts, and then shakes his head.

“The Hale House?!” Stiles says suddenly. “You’re right! Why didn’t I think of that before? Let’s go!”

“Wait! Stiles!” Scott calls after his friend, but it’s too late; Stiles has gone off at a sprint.

Scott could easily catch him, of course, but he almost wonders if it’s better this way. At least Stiles will be distracted for a few moments while he does some investigating of his own. If one were to say Stiles was running in a straight line, then from that line, Scott runs at a ninety degree angle from that. Towards the pack’s den.

Derek’s scent is strong and faded at the same time, and it’s mingled with the scent of another presence. Scott knows this means Derek’s with someone, and that they have come and gone already.

“Liam?” Scott calls out.

“Yeah?” Liam says, coming into view.

“Did...was Derek Hale here?” Scott asks.

Liam nods. “Yeah. He was.”

“Why?”

“ _That_...not so clear,” Liam says with a grimace.

“What do you mean?” Scott asks.

“Well, if you ask _me_ , I think he’s just making things worse for himself.”

Both men turn to see Theo against a wall, arms folded across his chest. Scott’s eyes narrow. Sure, Theo and Liam were a thing now— _have_ been a thing, rather, but that didn’t mean Scott had to like him.

“No one asked you,” says Scott.

“‘Course not,” Theo says, smoothly. “But I bet I’m the only one with the right answer.”

“What is he talking about, Liam?” Scott asks, looking back at the other were.

“Look, when Derek came here, he was just asking a lot of questions,” Liam says.

“About what?”

“About Stiles,” Liam replies, fidgeting a little nervously.

“Stiles?” Scott questions, now utterly confused. “Why would he be asking about Stiles?”

“Oh come _on_ , you dumbass, what else?” Theo interjects. “Asked how he was doing, whether things in Beacon Hills have been under control, what he’s been up to, whether he’s started seeing anyone new—all that jazz.”

“After nine years?” Scott asks, bewildered.

Liam shrugs. “Your guess is a good as mine.”

“Is he even staying?” Scott asks.

Liam shakes his head. “Really don’t know.”

“Look, you numbskulls,” Theo says, rolling his eyes as if bored by the whole thing. “Scott, you wouldn’t know since you’ve yet to bond with someone, and Lee, you—well, we haven’t really been separated, so you wouldn’t really know either.”

Both men turn to look at him like he’s grown two heads. “What?” they both ask in unison.

Theo rolls his eyes again. “Before he left, and I mean _way_ before he left, he bonded with Stiles, didn’t he? They rolled around, he gave Stiles the bite, things ebbed and flowed for a bit, then Derek skips town. You both following me so far?”

“Not...really, but continue,” Liam says. Scott keeps his mouth shut, waiting to hear what else the other man had to say.

Theo sighs. “Look, when you mate for someone, you mate with them for life. It’s like...the whole ‘till death do us part’ thing in weddings, okay? Except more literally.”

“So…” Scott tries.

Theo shakes his head. “ _So_ …” he continues. “Just because he _leaves_ town, doesn’t mean the bond severs, okay? It’s like when people talk about that invisible red line that connects people. Just because Derek left, doesn’t mean he had some kind of magic scissors to cut the cord.”

“But Derek left to protect Stiles,” Liam says.

“Sure, he’s tried, and done a pretty good job of doing so for nearly a decade,” says Theo. “But we’re all shifters, of some kind. We know what it is; what it’s like. At the end of the day, you can fight against instinct only for so long.”

“So he’s back because he feels connected to Stiles?” Scott asks.

“That’s part of it, but there’s also the pain aspect,” says Theo. “Think about how, even after all this time, Stiles has never really gotten over Derek leaving. You ever see him wander aimlessly or seem like he’s got his heads even more in the clouds than he ever did when Derek was here?”

“Well…” Scott starts.

“That’s how he’s been channeling his pain,” Theo says. “Everyone is different. You could say that because of how much each of them have been through, individually and together, well, that could be why Derek managed to stay away from Stiles for nine years and Stiles didn’t have a complete mental breakdown. Years ago, I wouldn’t have been the first to admit it, but I’m more comfortable, I guess, with saying it now. They’re both strong.”

“So maybe he’s come back to make amends, then?” Scott asks, not sure how he feels about that one. Derek broke his best friend’s heart, after all, and he takes no comfort in knowing how quickly Stiles would be willing to take the were back.

“I’d say that’s the part that’s unclear,” says Liam. “He asked all his questions, we gave him a few answers, and then he left with that Beta hanging around him without so much as saying whether he was going to be staying or going.”

“My money’s on that he’s staying,” Theo says, looking bored and down at his nails, picking at the dirt underneath them.

* * *

At some point, Stiles realizes Scott is no longer with him. It doesn’t matter, though. He’s reached the Hale House, and he makes his way inside, hoping that he’ll find Derek.

Instead, he finds Derek’s Beta, standing at the top of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for Stiles all along. The Beta jumps down to the bottom of the staircase with ease, to face Stiles.

“He’s not here,” the Beta says flatly. “But he told me you might come.”

Stiles wets his lower lip, somewhat nervously. “Where is he?”

“When he told me what you two are, why he left, and why he wanted to come back here, I warned him against it,” the Beta said.

Stiles remembers, with a sting, why Derek told him he was leaving. It was because Stiles was often placing himself in the line of danger too often, and Derek couldn’t bear to see it. Stiles had practically begged Derek to stay, promising that he’d change his ways and not be so hasty, but Derek had simply told him, _“I can’t ask you to change you who are, Stiles,”_ and that had been that. Derek’s leaving had hurt him like hell. He isn’t sure how he feels right now about Derek being back, and yet still somehow inaccessible.

“What made him come back?” Stiles asks.

The Beta rolls his eyes, as if this is a real question. “For you,” he says simply.

“Where is he?”

“Debating on whether or not he should see you,” the Beta spits. “Deciding whether it’s better to leave again without seeing you, or whether speaking to you first would be best.”

“He needs help,” Stiles says, and it’s not really a question.

“Ch,” The Beta tuts softly. “He did say you were sharp.”

“What’s the threat?” Stiles asks.

“A wave is coming from the West,” the Beta says, somewhat cryptically. “Not your average hunters. These are more militant, and they’re better equipped, too. They’re moving fast, and trying to eliminate our kind.”

“What can I do?” Stiles asks.

“That’s what he’s debating over,” says the Beta. “Whether or not he should ask you.”

“Tell him to ask,” says Stiles.

“Wait here,” says the Beta. “I will speak with him and return to you with his decision shortly.”

The Beta zips out of the house, and Stiles stands there, heart thumping in anticipation. Minutes go by, but it feels like hours, because of how he’s been left to wait. Finally, he feels a strange tug on his heart, and Stiles somehow knows this means Derek is close by.

He doesn’t wait much longer than that. Derek is soon several feet behind him.

“Stiles.”

Stiles tries not to turn around too eagerly, but he’s sure his expression hides nothing. With Derek, his heart is always on his sleeve.

“Der…”

“I told Graham we were to talk alone,” Derek says. “He’s nearby, but he won’t be bothering us for a little while.”

Stiles nods. He takes a small step forward.

“Can I…?” he asks softly.

The expression in Derek’s eyes is warm. “Yeah...yeah, you can.”

Stiles wastes no time rushing into Derek’s slowly outstretching arms. He breathes in the familiar scent of leather as he buries his face into the older man’s chest, sighing with contentment when Derek brings his arms around Stiles and holds him. They stand like that, just for a little while, before slowly pulling apart.

Stiles whispers, “I’ve missed you…”

Derek nods slightly. “I’ve missed you too.”

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

“You know I had to,” Derek says with a slight grimace. “I’m a beacon for too much trouble.”

“No, _Beacon Hills_ is a beacon for trouble,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “Hell, it’s in the name. You should have trusted us. You should have trusted that we could handle anything together.”

“I made enough of a mess, staking claim on you,” Derek says, brushing a thumb gently across Stiles’ cheekbone.

“Come to take responsibility, then?” Stiles asks.

Derek tenses a bit. Stiles’ shoulders slump slightly.

“Or a favor.”

Derek sighs softly. “...I feel like a dick for asking, now.”

“Don’t,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “You need my help right now, and that’s more important. Tell me. What do you need?”

“I haven’t been able to track Peter for a while,” Derek says. “He had my mother’s claws. I’m not sure where they are. I need a way to communicate with her. You’re a Spark...do you have another way?”

Stiles pauses for a moment, thinking. His eyes soon hold an expression that for once, Derek can’t interpret.

“Would it be easier, Der? If they were around?” he asks.

Derek frowns slightly. “What…?”

“If your family were around…” Stiles says, slowly. “Would you feel more confident in taking care of the new threat?”

“That’s not funny, Stiles.”

“I’m being serious, Der; humor me, just one moment,” says Stiles. “Would it?”

Derek stares at Stiles, trying to figure out what the other man is thinking, but the younger man is, for once, a closed book. “I’m not sure about the younger ones,” Derek finally settles for saying. “But my parents? The older siblings and relatives? Yeah, Stiles. I’m sure they could.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, and Derek wonders why the younger man is slowly shrinking back from him. His instinct screams for him to pull the other man back into his arms. “Okay, I think I have something.”

“You do?” Derek asks. _“That quickly?”_ he wonders.

Stiles nods. “Leave here for now; come back around midnight,” he instructs. “You’ll know when you see it.”

Derek stares. Stiles claps his hands lightly against Derek’s now lowered arms.

“You hear me, Der?” Stiles says. “Leave now, and come back at midnight. Do you trust me?”

At that, Derek nods. “With my life.”

“Good. Now get out of here, you silly Sourwolf.”

Derek half-smiles at the nickname. It’s been a long time since he’s heard it. Then, unexpectedly, Stiles moves in and captures Derek's lips for a kiss. Derek responds warmly and passionately. It's long overdue for the both of them, and it's simply electrifying. Any doubts or worries that are in Derek's mind, quickly flurries away. They eventually part, breathless. Stiles catches his breath first.

"...so you'll wait?" he asks.

“All right, Stiles," Derek says, nodding. "I’ll be here at midnight."

"Good," Stiles repeats.

They both turn to leave, and go in opposite directions. As Derek goes towards where his Beta is waiting, he listens to the sound of Stiles’ feet running, and Derek wonders where exactly the other man is headed.

When he reaches his Beta, he can’t hear Stiles anymore. He waits, but there is this nagging part of him that wonders if he’s made a grave mistake.


	2. “You’re the One, That I Choose”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by listening [JoJo’s “Coming For You.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52aU_10KPfI&list=PLUMpnxcCbLX9B4aaH3bLydI2hYwcWP5dL&index=3&t=81s) Also, a mini _Supernatural_ Easter egg, if you know where to look.

Stiles doesn’t tell anyone what he’s planned. He’s often spontaneous that way. He runs towards his house, first. His father isn’t home yet from duty, which works even better for his plan. He plops onto his seat in his room, fires up his computer, and as soon as it’s ready, he opens up a portal to the dark web, where he conducts a lot of his mythological research. He scrounges the forums for a bit until he finds what he’s looking for. Then he shuts down and runs again.

He finds the nearest crossroads he can find. Following the instructions he found on the deep web forum to the letter, he casts his summon.

The demon materializes before him, taking on a feminine form. She tilts her head to the side, curiously.

“Not the typical customer,” she drawls. “You’re much more than a mere human, child.”

Stiles claps his hands and then spreads his arms wide, in that trademark way he does sometimes. There’s a hint of sarcasm in his delivery.

“Well, I don’t exactly have a typical request, either,” he says.

“I’m sure you don’t,” the Crossroads Demon says dryly. “You do know these requests come at a price?”

“I’ll pay it,” Stiles says, without hesitation.

The demon blinks. Then she gives a toothy smile.

“I like you, little one,” she says. “Tell me your heart’s deepest desire.”

Stiles does, and the demon doesn’t reply for a moment. Stiles wonders if perhaps he’s asked something she cannot grant, but the demon soon speaks.

“You truly have surprised me, little one,” she says. “I’ll grant you your wish. Now, we come to terms.”

Stiles runs his tongue across his lower lip and nods, a hand shaking a bit at his side. “Go ahead,” he says. “Name them.”

The demon grins.

* * *

Derek starts feeling a little hazy as it nears midnight. He wonders if it’s exhaustion, but that doesn’t make sense. His footsteps are slow, and he’s not even sure if his Beta is with him anymore as he trudges his way back to the Hale manse. He doesn’t notice, as he nears the house, that the once dead greenery leading to the mansion and around it is slowly beginning to become more vibrant. Perhaps he would have noticed it better in the daytime.

He reaches the house, and then he stops. He can’t believe what his eyes see.

The mansion is in perfect order, and it’s as he remembered it as a young were. As he draws close to it, he wonders how this could be. There’s a name, on the tip of his tongue, who he feels he should ask what on earth they did to manage this, but he can’t remember it, and it bothers him.

The closer to the house he gets, the less strange everything feels. Soon, thoughts of wondering how this could happen, quickly get replaced by how nice it is to come home, to talk to his family. He thinks about how it’s been a long time, and how he’s journeyed far to get back here, to tell his family about a new threat they have to prepare for.

He opens the door, and it’s a cacophony of sounds. Chatter from all directions.

“Derek!” his younger sister calls, and Derek automatically opens his arms to swoop her in.

He smiles. “Cora!”

She hugs him tightly. “Ooh, I’ve missed you!”

“Missed you too, pup.”

“Derek.”

Derek looks up. His heart swells. It’s his mother, Talia.

“It’s been a long time, my son,” she says. “What brings you home?”

“I have to fill you in on a lot,” Derek says. “There’s a threat out West, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Talia nods. “Come, Derek. I’ll call the others. Let’s go to the family room.”

* * *

“It is done,” the Crossroads Demon says, as she turns to Stiles. “You’re an interesting one.”

“Am I?” Stiles says dryly. “I don’t feel all that special.”

“As I said, I like you,” the demon says. “You’re different from many of the selfish humans who come to me to sell their souls in exchange for their deepest desires.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

He looks down when he feels a tug at his pinky finger. He marvels at the red line that he can now see there. The Crossroads Demon pulls it up slightly, and Stiles looks up at her.

She half-smiles. “This shall not be severed,” she says.

“So that’s what you mean by—”

“Your connection will remain,” the Crossroads Demon says, reiterating her terms. “Your soul shall remain in a purgatory of sorts. As you’ve asked, no one shall be hurt. No one shall remember you.”

Stiles nods. “Okay.”

“You’ll find out the rest as you go,” she says with a smile.

The demon then vanishes into thin air, and the next thing Stiles knows, he is transported to someplace that will he will learn to accept as a more merciful form of his own personal hell. No chance for goodbyes, and no traces of himself left behind. It’s well worth it though, Stiles tells himself. After all, there’s no room left for doubt, anyway. What’s done cannot be undone. This much he knows and understands.


	3. “We Don’t Fit in Well, ‘Cause We are Just Ourselves”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by listening to [“Beautiful People,” by Ed Sheeran, and featuring Khalid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mj0XInqZMHY&list=PLUMpnxcCbLX9B4aaH3bLydI2hYwcWP5dL&index=4&t=0s).

For months, Derek can’t help but feel as if something is off. Something is _missing_. Shortly after he and his family take care of the most recent threat they were facing, Derek has time to settle into his thoughts. It’s not that he’s not grateful to be spending time with his family each day, or that the house is in such neat order. He kicks himself constantly, mentally, every time he thinks that there must be something wrong with the way things are. Peaceful.

“ _Would it be easier, Der? If they were around?”_

 _Of course it’s easier_ , Derek thinks to himself, but wonders at the questions. On the one hand, he has to assume it’s some weird inner dialogue he’s trying to have with himself. On the other hand, that’s not something he normally does, and the words feel as if they came from someplace else somehow; he just can’t place his finger on it.

“ _Derek!_ ”

Calls from his younger siblings take precedence over his thoughts. Snapping out of his reverie, Derek quickly chases after the smaller ones, who squeal with delight as they all shift into weres and play some form of tag. His parents watch from the front porch, smiling. The older Hale siblings are inside, doing their own things. Laura is inside playing the grand piano. He has another sister doing some needlework. His brothers are busy throwing back and forth a football in the yard behind their house.

Everything seems perfect. Everything seems so simple. There are moments where Derek finds himself questioning it all, but each time his thoughts begin to wander there, something else quickly takes away his attention, and the fleeting thoughts are gone.

* * *

There are those who have a similar experience as Derek. The Crossroads Demon did more than do Stiles a small favor. She also made other adjustments, at her whim. Impressed by Stiles’ selflessness, she was inspired to grant more of the younger man’s wishes; ones he hadn’t even asked for aloud. The price he had to pay, after all, was hefty, she reasoned. If her superiors asked, well, she would just say that Stiles happened to catch her on a good day.

In this new reality, Sheriff Stilinski’s wife, lives. Instead of a son, they have a daughter, Aleksandra, whom they fondly refer to as Alexi. Scott’s father isn’t a drunkard, and the McCall family is well enough together and happy. Scott is dating Alison, who hasn’t died, and Kira is no longer full Asian, but half. Her mother was able to marry Corporal Rhys, who didn’t get burned during World War II.

Some things, however, did remain the same. Theo and Liam, for example, remained coupled. However, they recall meeting earlier, as children. Liam prevents Theo from doing horrible things to his sister, and his presence somehow eradicates the demon that’s inside of Theo. Beacon Hills is still a cesspool for demonic events, for which the Pack has to respond to.

The Pack is bigger now, and stronger. Erica and Boyd are alive, and Lydia and Jackson are together. Ethan is happy and dating Danny, and Aiden, of course, is alive and well.

All seems right in Beacon Hills. Too right. And yet, whenever one of them gets too close to uncovering the truth, a veil seems to wash over their memories, and soon they fall back into the comforts of their new life, none of them the wiser as to what it cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this all in one go is a little tough tonight—I'll try to have the last two chapters out by tomorrow, and that'll be the end of this mini-series.


	4. “For Better, For Worse, I Got You”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that I expect anyone to care—I’m just another writer in fanfic land, after all, but I got some pretty bad news today that’s really brought me down, so I’m totally in tears as I’m writing this chapter right now. My hope is my writing will help me to heal again, as it’s done so many times in the past. 
> 
> This chapter was inspired from listening to [Leona Lewis’ “I Got You.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8BdyI8Uwmus&list=PLUMpnxcCbLX9B4aaH3bLydI2hYwcWP5dL&index=5&t=0s)

When Stiles hears the bell above the door chime for the first time, he’s stunned. As far as he knew, no one could see the place, and no one could ever come inside. He looks up, and can’t believe who he sees.

“Sorry…” Derek says sheepishly, as he walks into what looks like a ‘60s-themed diner. “Is this place open?”

“W-what? Oh, oh yeah, we are!” Stiles says quickly, grabbing a menu that he never thought he’d need from behind the counter and bringing it around to the confused were.

Derek takes the menu, but Stiles watches as the were’s eyes slowly shift to the small TV that’s behind the counter. Stiles’ eyes widen, and he practically jumps halfway over the counter to quickly shut off what it’s broadcasting. Derek looks at him, bewildered, and Stiles shakes his head, half-smiling.

“N-nothing important. Just some boring news channel,” he says.

“Ah…” Derek merely says in reply, and then looks down at the menu now in his hand.

“Please! Please have a seat,” Stiles says, gesturing at all the empty tables around them. “Anywhere you’d like.”

Derek takes a brief sweep around the room, and then starts moving towards the bar. “I’ll sit right at the counter, if you don’t mind,” he says.

Stiles can’t believe his luck. He nods.

“Right. Of course.”

Stiles goes back behind the counter while Derek looks over the menu. A million thoughts race through his mind. _How is Derek here? Now this further explains why there’s all this never-expiring food in his kitchen. Can he cook something for Derek that he’d like?_ Stiles has had a lot of time in this purgatory the Crossroads Demon placed him in, and he’s had an awful lot of time to practice.

He eventually circles back to wondering how Derek could even be here. Then he remembers something the Crossroads Demon had said.

“ _You’ll find out the rest as you go.”_

He wonders if this is what the demon had meant. Another thought crosses his mind.

“Say...what’s your name?” he asks.

Derek looks up at him and blinks. “Oh. Sorry, that was rude of me. It’s Derek.”

Stiles marvels over Derek’s newfound manners. It’s bittersweet, he thinks, how much softer Derek is now.

“I’m Mieczysław,” Stiles says.

He almost laughs when Derek scrunches his nose. “Mie-chi…” he tries.

Stiles shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, man,” he says. “Just call me Stiles.”

“Stiles…” Derek says softly, expression kind. “Yeah...that suits you.”

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. “Say...you wouldn’t happen to know what day it is today, do ya? I kind of lose track while I’m in here, sometimes.”

Derek arches a brow in that familiar way that makes Stiles think not all of the were’s older mannerisms aren’t completely gone. “Don’t get out much?”

“That, and don’t get the paper delivered here,” Stiles lies. “Too costly.”

There’s a light frown on Derek’s face; Stiles wonders if his heartbeat gave away his dishonesty. Thankfully, Derek chooses to brush past it.

“April,” he says. “It’s April eighth.”

The statement catches Stiles by surprise. Tears sting his eyes.

“ _You’ll find out the rest as you go,”_ he remembers the Crossroads Demon saying again. This must have been what she meant, he realizes.

“What’s...wrong?” Derek asks, clearly noticing the change in Stiles’ demeanor.

Stiles shakes his head and smiles. “Nothing. Nothing at all,” he says. He leans over the counter and rests his chin in his hands, elbows on the white surface. “Now what can I get ya, hot stuff?”

At this, Derek blushes, and Stiles can’t help but to feel a little accomplished by this. He can’t think of a single time before, when they were truly together, where he’d made the older man react this same way.

“Uh...right,” Derek says as he looks down at the menu. “Can I uh...get a burger with um…”

“Curly fries?” Stiles suggests. “They’re my favorite.”

“Yeah…” Derek nods and then smiles at Stiles a bit. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Coming right up!”

Stiles goes back into the kitchen, and that’s when he lets some of it out. He cries, but doesn’t make a sound. It’s been a full year since he’s last seen Derek, and he didn’t think seeing him in person would hit him this hard. He had already settled for watching him and the others through the TV the Crossroads Demon apparently allowed him to have; like the Beast’s magic mirror in that one fairy tale. A window to an outside world he’d never see again. It was like the time when he had been captured by the Ghost Riders.

Of course, there are some key differences. There is a hidden set of rooms that he had access to that is a full living quarters; comforts that didn’t exist when the Ghost Riders were running the show. He also isn’t necessarily confined to the place. He is free to walk outside if he wants to, but he had found that he was like a ghost. People could run through him, and he was invisible. He’d tested it many times. So he mostly found himself preferring to sit by the TV and watch his friends and Derek’s days go by. If one took a close look at the dial—it was an old-fashioned type of TV in terms of the way it was operated, probably to go with the ‘60s theme, Stiles supposed—there were many little lines and names next to those lines. They included Derek, Scott, his parents, and so on. He did tend to spend a lot of his time on Derek’s channel, but he would check in on his parents, Scott, and the others as well. Despite everything, he’s glad things seem to be going so well for everyone, and as much as he misses his mother, it’s good to see his dad smiling so genuinely again.

Seeing Derek, and Derek being able to see him—despite not being able to remember him—is both a welcome change and a tearful one. Forcing himself to regain his composure, Stiles prepares the meal Derek ordered, and hopes the were doesn’t wonder what’s taking him so long.

He eventually pops out with two sets of burgers and curly fries. He pushes one towards Derek, and keeps the other himself. Derek takes his plate and raises a brow.

“You always eat together with your customers?” he asks.

“When it’s this quiet and they’re alone, yeah,” Stiles says smoothly, and hopes his heartbeat doesn’t give him away at any point in time to Derek’s well-trained ears. “Thought it might be less awkward than me watching ya.”

Derek shrugs. “I guess so,” he says, before taking a bite.

“What do you think?” Stiles asks eagerly. “Good?”

“Pretty rare,” Derek says with a bit of a smile. “You didn’t even ask me how I liked it cooked, but this is perfect.”

Stiles mentally kicks himself. He knew he’d forgotten to ask something. He couldn’t just tell Derek why he knew—he didn’t want to freak the were out and lose whatever time he had left with him.

“That’s, uh...good!” Stiles says before deftly changing the subject. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Water’s fine.”

“Sounds good.”

Stiles goes back in the kitchen, grabs two glasses, fills them up with water, and returns to Derek. He slides the water gently over to the other man, who catches it in his right hand.

“Nice,” Derek teases. “You practice?”

“All day,” Stiles says with a laugh.

They eat in silence for a moment. At some point, Derek’s brows furrow together a bit.

“You know…” he starts.

“Hm?” Stiles responds, wondering what the were might want to say.

“This atmosphere...it’s quiet,” Derek says. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah...yeah I suppose it is,” Stiles says. _Can be_ , he doesn’t correct.

Derek’s eyes sweep around the area briefly before looking back at Stiles. “I think I’d actually like to visit here more often. Would that be all right?”

Stiles chokes back his tears and barely manages to keep his voice from cracking. “Y-yeah...of course. Anytime you want, Der.”

They both freeze for a moment. Derek looks at Stiles curiously.

“You know, you’re...you’re awful familiar to me,” Derek says then, shaking his head a bit. “I’m not sure how or why, but…”

“Maybe I just remind you of someone you know,” Stiles says softly, looking down at his curly fries and moving one about.

“No it’s...it’s more like something’s on the tip of my tongue,” says Derek. “Can’t put my finger on it.”

Stiles doesn’t know whether to tell the truth, and he’s hesitant to, because he’s afraid of angering the Crossroads Demon. He also fights to hold back the emotion in his voice.

“Deja vu,” Stiles says. “Happens all the time.”

“Yeah…” Derek says, nodding, deciding to accept this explanation. “Yeah, I guess so…”

He frowns a bit though, at Stiles, and tilts his head to the side. Stiles hopes the heat in his cheeks doesn’t actually show, as he’s being scrutinized by the other man.

“I know this is going to sound crazy, but...you smell sad,” Derek says. “...why are you...sad?”

Stiles doesn’t even act like he doesn’t know what Derek’s talking about. For a moment, he _dares_. He lets his fingertips brush lightly over Derek’s knuckles, and the were is too preoccupied to notice it’s even happening—or perhaps he welcomes the touch, because it feels so familiar. It feels so _right_.

“I’m not...I’m not sad,” Stiles says, and it’s a half-truth. “It’s more...I’m glad I met you today, Derek.”

“Yeah,” Derek says as he wraps up his meal. “Yeah, me too.”

Stiles tries not to focus on the way he feels his heart drop to his stomach when Derek gets up from his seat. “Hey…” Derek says, rummaging in his pockets. “How much do I owe you for the meal?”

“It’s on the house,” Stiles says, firmly. He’s got no use for currency nowadays anyway.

“You sure?” Derek asks, raising a brow. “Don’t need anything to keep your lights running?”

“You’d be surprised,” Stiles says with a hint of sarcasm.

Derek’s lips quirk at the corners. “Well...it was nice meeting you today—”

“Stiles,” Stiles says.

Derek nods. “Right. Stiles,” he says. “I hope...I hope we can do this again sometime.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says with a bit of a smile. “I hope we can too.”

Derek turns to leave. When he reaches the door, he pauses for a moment and looks at Stiles, who’s looking at him back, and the were can’t help but feel like the younger man just looks so _lonely_ over there. He hesitates pulling at the door to leave, and rests his hand on the handle for a moment. Then, Derek knows it’s crazy, Stiles is only someone he’s just now met, but he’s entranced. Without a second thought, he marches over to the counter and grabs a fistful of the bewildered Spark’s shirt, drawing the man close, and using his other hand to thread through Stiles’ hair and to pull him in for a kiss.

Stiles is stunned at first, but then he quickly gives in to the tenderness. He responds back in kind, and moans softly. He nearly whines when Derek pulls away. Both of them appear disheveled, and eyes blown with lust.

“I...I’m sorry,” Derek says. “I don’t know what came over me. That was out of line.”

“H-hey…!” Stiles says, waving a hand to let Derek know it was okay. “It’s fine. I...I didn’t mind.”

“Good...good, well…” Derek says. “I guess...I’ll see you around then?”

Stiles half-smiles. “Yeah...see you around, Derek.”

He nearly called Derek ‘babe,’ but had managed to stop himself in the nick of time. With great reluctance, Derek finally leaves, but not before taking one last glance at Stiles, his heart tugging, nudging for him to stay. Stiles remains put, and it takes every fiber of his being not to chase Derek down and bring him back.

The bells chime as Derek opens the door and leaves the property, and suddenly it feels to Stiles as if the wind’s been sucked out of the place. His new home, if one could call it that, never seemed so big, empty, or vast like this before.

After a few moments just standing and staring at the door where Derek once stood, Stiles finally lets out a sigh. He turns back to the TV and doesn’t do anything at first, but then he flips it on. He turns it to his parents’ channel. He’d rather see how things are going between them and their daughter at the moment, more than watching what Derek might be up to now. The reopened wound just feels way too fresh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll have to finish the rest tomorrow. Due to current circumstances, I was only able to get to this much tonight. So sorry if I've disappointed y'all.


	5. "I Want You to Be Happier"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [Marshmello's "Happier," featuring Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m7Bc3pLyij0&list=PLUMpnxcCbLX9B4aaH3bLydI2hYwcWP5dL&index=6&t=0s).

Derek wakes up the next morning, and his mind is foggy and hazy. He feels odd—like something’s off—when he gets out of bed that day. It’s a feeling like something’s on the tip of his tongue, and though his brain tries hard to reclaim the thought, it’s quickly leaving his grasp instead.

“Derek!!” one of his younger siblings squeals in delight as she jumps onto him. “Guys! Big Brother Derek is up!!”

The sound of padding little feet can soon be heard. Derek smiles down at his younger sister.

“Hey, little tyke,” he says.

There’s that nagging thought in the back of his head still. His mind is split in two different directions—trying to focus on his younger siblings who are now crowding around him, and the strange feeling that he’s just _missing something_. He has this abstract thought about the dream he’s sure he had, but can’t really recall now. There was something about that dream that felt so real, and it makes his current situation seem like the dream instead. However, he quickly shakes away the thought. After all, _why wouldn’t this be real_ , he thinks to himself. He couldn’t imagine a reality without his parents. His siblings. His _family_.

Then a single thought crosses his mind. _Pack_. And for some reason, it triggers random flashes of a time he’s long since forgotten, and it confuses him.

 _Pain. Fire. Hunters. Demons._ And yet, at the same time, he sees blips of some other things as well. _A light brushing of hands. Warm lips. The smell of home._ There’s a face Derek is trying to form in his mind, but he _just can’t see_. It disturbs him.

His older sister’s voice breaks him out of his reverie. “Hey, Derek. Breakfast’s ready. Let’s get everyone rounded up and go.”

Derek nods. “All right, kids,” he says with a smile down at the four little ones all over him at the moment. “Let’s go downstairs and eat, huh?”

“Yeah!!” three of the four say in unison.

“Only if you’re coming too, big bro!” the last one says.

Derek smiles and laughs softly. He ruffles the boy’s hair.

“Of course, kiddo,” he says. “Let’s go.”

He’s the last one to leave his room behind. Before he shuts the door, Derek pauses and looks behind him, brows furrowing together slightly, as if he’s expecting to remember something by looking back at his bed.

 _Laughter. Warmth. Playfulness. Mischief._ He almost thinks he can see himself and someone else on his bed. It’s perhaps ironic that his imagination casts a ray of light so strong over the other figure that he can’t see the other person’s face.

“Come on, Derek! Hurry up!” Cora calls from downstairs.

“Yeah—coming!” he calls back.

Then, just like that, the moment is gone. Derek reluctantly closes the door behind him and goes down the stairs, feeling like he’s lost something important still.

* * *

Somewhere, in an alternate dimension of sorts, Stiles watches all this, tears sliding down his cheeks. While he can’t see Derek’s thought processes, what he does see is the face of the one he loves most, seeming to look directly at him through the TV. His fingertips gingerly run along the outline of Derek’s face before he shuts the door and disappears completely.

“ _It’s better this way_ ,” Stiles whispers softly; lovingly. “ _I can take your pain._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I made it. My next project will be to tackle my main fic here. Fingers crossed I won't lose inspiration or steam again. Or get so affected by outside things. Anyway, thanks all for bearing with me. Hope to see you all again, real soon.


End file.
